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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25166665">Hear Me Howling</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Binary_Sunset/pseuds/Binary_Sunset'>Binary_Sunset</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>DFAB Jaskier | Dandelion, Folklore, M/M, Modern AU, Nonbinary Jaskier | Dandelion, Scientist Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Wolf Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, mentions of animal harm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:29:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,972</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25166665</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Binary_Sunset/pseuds/Binary_Sunset</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jaskier first starts his job at the Kaer Morhen Wildlife Sanctuary, he isn't quite sure what he's doing here. He's a music major, specialising in folk music. But it's a job and it pays well, so he's not going to complain.</p><p>But a new arrival at the sanctuary catches his eye: a massive white wolf with yellow eyes that reminds him of his childhood boogeyman. Is the wolf as terrifying as he seems? Or is his bark far worse than his bite? And what secrets might this odd creature be hiding?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>145</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Geraskier Midsummer Mini Bang, The Witcher - Various Alternate Universes</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have a couple people to thank for this fic!</p><p>First of all, shoutout to the lovely mods of the Geraskier minibang for making this event possible! I had a great time getting to know all of you and seeing all the fics that we got from this.</p><p>Second of all, I’d link to thank my artist <a>Imaginary Discographies</a> for hir hard work on the artwork. Ze literally hand-knitted a freakin tapestry and it looks incredible! You can reblog the art <a href="https://leavemecryingdandelion.tumblr.com/post/623179972985733120/hear-me-howling-chapter-1-binarysunset">here</a>.</p><p>Next, a quick thank you to CinnamonMarti for her beta work. You rock at spotting my typos!</p><p>Finally, I’d like to make a special thank you to <a>Radaan</a> who helped me with picking out a Polish folk song and a couple translations later down the line. Check out his art, it’s amazing!</p><p>I’d also like to clarify that I fudged most of the folklore for this fic. To my knowledge, there is no White Wolf that wanders a specific national forest in Poland, but I did base him off of a few European archetypes that folklore nerds might recognise.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
</div><p> </p><p>Jaskier wasn’t sure what he was doing at the Kaer Morhen Wildlife Sanctuary. He was a <em> music </em> major for Christ’s sake. But it was the only internship that bothered to pay him, and he needed to make ends meet over the summer. </p><p>Still, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it. Working at a Wildlife Sanctuary seemed like a pretty fun job, and he’d loved animals as a kid.</p><p>The moment he stepped through the door of the visitor’s centre, he felt his inner six-year-old squee in delight.</p><p>The walls were painted with a panoramic illustration, presumably of the National Forest that the sanctuary was situated in. It was mostly tall conifers, dotted with occasional deciduous trees and shrubs. A multitude of woodland creatures populated the illustrated forest: beavers building a dam in a stream, a herd of painted elks wandering through the trees, a black bear and her cubs…</p><p>“They did a wonderful job, didn’t they?” a woman’s voice cut in.</p><p>Jaskier jumped, not realising that he wasn’t alone in the room. Behind a desk sat a graceful young woman, scarcely older than he was. She had her dark, wavy hair pulled into a loose bun at the back of her head.</p><p>“Who did a nice job?” Jaskier asked, quickly recovering from his shock.</p><p>“We brought in some art students from Willamette to do the mural a couple years ago. I think they really smashed it.”</p><p>Jaskier pressed his fingers against the wall, following the branch of a pine tree. “I think so too.” He shifted his attention back to the woman. “Speaking of Willamette, I’m here to check in for the internship programme.”</p><p>She smiled and pulled out a binder. “You’re in the right place, then. I’m actually the director of the programme, so tell me your name and I’ll go ahead and get you set up.”</p><p>Jaskier took a few steps over to the table, inspecting the contents of the binder. It was a fairly simple check-in sheet with columns for his name, time in, and time out. “I’m Jaskier Pankratz. And I’m guessing you’re Triss Merigold?”</p><p>The two of them had been emailing over the last two weeks, putting the finishing touches on their preparations for the summer. Triss had seemed like a kind and understanding person through her emails, so Jaskier was fairly excited to finally meet her face-to-face.</p><p>Triss nodded her head, a few of her stray curls bobbing as she did so. “Lucky for you, the name tags we ordered just arrived earlier today.” She grabbed a box from underneath the counter and passed it to Jaskier. “Your name tag and uniform are in there. You get one shirt for free, but if you snag another one from Eskel in the gift shop, I certainly don’t need to know about it.” She winked.</p><p>Jaskier took the proffered box and had a look at the polished metal name tag. The sight of it made his heart skip a beat.</p><p>He’d been out as genderqueer since he started University, but this was the first time he’d seen his real name and pronouns printed on a real, professional name tag.</p><p>It read “Jaskier” and then underneath in smaller print “he/him they/them.” The text was positioned just beneath the sanctuary’s logo, which featured a minimalistic drawing of a cougar curled around the words <em> Kaer Morhen Wildlife Sanctuary </em>.</p><p>He put the pin aside and pulled out the uniform shirt. It was a forest green polo, which bore the exact same logo on the front and read “Staff” on the back in big, bold letters.</p><p>“Everything look good on the name tag?” Triss asked. “I know the font size on the pronouns is a bit small, and I had trouble making it fit…”</p><p>Jaskier just chuckled. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” He pocketed the name tag and draped the shirt over his arm. “Should I change into these?”</p><p>She shrugged. “You don’t have to. Today’s going to be mostly orientation. In the future, you should probably put it on before you arrive.”</p><p>“So I show up with the uniform on and then I just sign in the book?” Jaskier asked, pointing out the binder that Triss has left on the desk.</p><p>Triss nodded. “Let me show you what you should do after that.”</p><p>She led him out of the visitor’s centre and towards the gate to the sanctuary.</p><p>“If your shift starts when it’s closed,” she explained, “You can go ahead and use the keypad to enter. I should have emailed you the combination the other day.”</p><p>Triss made quick work of the passcode, the glitter on her bright red fingernails catching the light as she carefully punched each number in.</p><p>Then, Jaskier heard a click and the gate door swung open.</p><p>The sanctuary was packed with enclosures, each seeming to house an animal more incredible than the last. The entire left side was overtaken by a single enclosure, housing an animal that Jaskier couldn’t see. The right side had two bird habitats,  in which he spotted massive raptors and small songbirds alike.</p><p>Triss gestured to the single large enclosure first. “This is Ciri the bobcat, our only rescued feline. She came to us after being hit by a car as a kitten.”</p><p>Ciri’s enclosure had two layers of fencing: presumably, one to keep the cat in and another to keep humans from getting their fingers nipped. The foliage inside was relatively sparse, but the cat had a multitude of climbing structures, as well as what appeared to be a small shelter.</p><p>Jaskier got onto his tiptoes, trying to spot her. “Is she sleeping or something?”</p><p>“Probably. They’re most active at dawn and dusk, so she’s probably tucked in her den for a catnap. She’s stunning, though, and she’ll definitely come out for any morning or evening tours. You’ll also be responsible for feeding her, as well as all the other animals in the sanctuary, so I’ll walk you through that process.”</p><p>Triss walked through a gate labelled “Staff Only,” then around one of the cage’s corners to a stone slab that protruded from the enclosure’s main body. It was encased in fencing and there appeared to be a sort of door on Ciri’s side of the enclosure.</p><p>No sooner had Triss stepped towards the slab then there was a great rustle of leaves. Soon, a small, furry face appeared out of the foliage.</p><p>“Oh, poor Ciri. She thinks we’re going to feed her.” Triss looked at the big cat, and showed her empty hands. “I don’t have anything for you, Princess, it isn’t dinner time.”</p><p>The cat, seemingly nonplussed, cocked her head.</p><p>“I don’t want to tease her by actually opening up the feeding station, so I’ll just explain it to you in words.” She gestured to a loop on the top of the smaller enclosure. “This allows the front of the feeding station to come undone, so you can give her food and water. Then, you open up the trapdoor using this rope here,” she gestured to a rope hanging along the side of the enclosure, “and allow her to come inside and eat. You can close the door behind her while she’s eating and go ahead and clean up any messes she’s made. Then, once you’re done, come back here, let her back in the enclosure, and take the bowls back inside to be washed.”</p><p>Jaskier nodded. “Makes sense.” He looked over at the bobcat as it watched him with bright green eyes. “I wish I got to pet her, though. She looks so soft!”</p><p>Triss chuckled. “Don’t we all. But unfortunately, the non-contact policy is best for her and us. It keeps us from getting hurt and prevents her from being put down for mauling someone.”</p><p>“I guess that’s true of all the animals, then?” Jaskier asked.</p><p>“Most of them. We have a couple of ambassador birds that we take to schools to teach kids about them, but other than that, these are wild animals, and we need to set them up for success.”</p><p>Jaskier nodded solemnly. “I understand. I’ll still probably daydream about petting her, though.”</p><p>Triss chuckled. “Daydreaming is fine, as long as it stays that way.”</p><p>She introduced Jaskier to the birds who lived across from Ciri, explaining their stories. Two of them were the ambassador birds she’d mentioned earlier: a crow named Regis and a kestrel named Dandelion.</p><p>The name of the latter made Jaskier chuckle. “You know, Dandelion was my stage name for a while,” he said to the small raptor.</p><p>The kestrel tilted its head and chirped. It was so cute that Jaskier couldn’t help but chuckle.</p><p>“I think someone likes you,” Triss teased. “If you’d like to learn how to handle him, you’re welcome to.”</p><p>“I might be tempted to, actually.” He glanced towards the little bird in the cage, giving it a smile. “I always liked birds as a kid.”</p><p>“How do you feel about snakes?”</p><p>Jaskier gulped. “Snakes?”</p><p>Up the path was the reptile area, which was populated mostly by large enclosures, each containing a large body of water. On the right was a wall of glass enclosures embedded in the side of the visitor’s centre.</p><p>“Snakes,” Triss confirmed, pointing to the glass tanks. “You’ll learn to like them.”</p><p>Jaskier took a few steps closer to the snake enclosures. Most of them didn’t have any visible serpents in them, but there was one rattlesnake sunning itself on a flat rock. His stomach twisted a bit at the sight of the snake, but even he had to admit that its intricate patterns were rather beautiful up close. “I could see myself doing that.”</p><p>Triss chuckled. “Everyone either comes in loving snakes or hating them, but everyone ends up with a grudging respect for them by the end of the summer.”</p><p>She went over the care for the snakes and the turtles: their different species, their diets, and how to clean up their enclosures.</p><p>There were so many different types of animals housed at Kaer Morhen that Jaskier could hardly keep them straight. But still, he tried to remember what he could and ask questions to Triss when he wasn’t sure.</p><p>Near the sanctuary’s exit was a massive enclosure, similar to Ciri’s but impossibly larger, densely wooded with Pacific Northwest foliage.</p><p>Most interesting was a woman in a labcoat who was peering through the mesh of the enclosure. Though Jaskier could only see her from behind, he could see the way her silky black hair contrasted with the stark white of her coat.</p><p>Triss walked up to the woman with a sense of familiarity that helped Jaskier relax. “Doctor Vengerberg? How’s our new friend doing?”</p><p>The woman turned, and Jaskier was almost floored by how devastatingly beautiful she was. Her eyeliner was delicately blended, accentuating eyes so blue that they looked almost purple. But behind those eyes and that beauty was, Jaskier could sense, a sharp, fierce intellect.</p><p>Vengerberg pointed into the cage. “Our White Wolf is still a bit groggy from the trip over, but from what I can tell, he isn’t reacting usually to the sedatives.”</p><p>Triss turned to Jaskier. “Doctor Yennefer Vengerberg is a wildlife biologist at OSU,” she explained. “We just retrieved a rather unique wolf from Poland, and she’d like to study it.”</p><p>It was then that Jaskier finally noticed the body of the wolf, partially hidden by a dense patch of bracken. It looked over at Vengerberg groggily before allowing his head to loll back onto the ground.</p><p>Jaskier didn’t know very much about wolves, but even he knew this one was unusual. Most pictures he’d seen of white wolves were a pale yellow. This wolf was the precise colour of newly fallen snow. And it wasn’t even albino: while they were glassy with the sedative, the wolf’s eyes were a bright amber, not the telltale red of albinism.</p><p>More remarkable, though, was the wolf’s size. Even just curled up asleep like this, the creature must have been as long as Jaskier was tall.</p><p>“I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of the White Wolf of Rivia,” Yennefer explained, “But you’re looking at it.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jaskier had indeed been familiar with the White Wolf of Rivia. His parents were immigrants from Poland, where it’s said that the beast prowled. And like them, he was brought up on tales of the Wolf, an ever-present boogeyman who targeted small children for all sorts of infractions.</p><p>“Don’t stay out past sunset or the White Wolf will gobble you up!”</p><p>“Careful with the sweets, darling. The White Wolf loves it when kids fatten themselves up for his dinner.”</p><p>“The White Wolf won’t eat you as long as you eat your vegetables. He hates the taste of broccoli.”</p><p>Before he’d started school, he remembered thinking that he could see the fierce, yellow eyes of the White Wolf glowing just outside his window. He would often slip into his parents’ bed when that happened, thinking that they’d somehow protect him from a preternatural monster.</p><p>Oddly, despite it being the source of many childhood nightmares, Jaskier had been sad to learn that the White Wolf was nothing more than a folktale. The wolf had been a pillar of his childhood, just as Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy had been for other kids. Despite the fear he felt towards it, knowing the Wolf wasn’t real was like feeling the last flicker of wonder in the world being snuffed out.</p><p>He was explaining as much to Essi the next morning,  as he prepared for his first real day of work. Despite sharing his love of the arts, she seemed less than amused.</p><p>“So you’re telling me that your childhood boogeyman is living in a sanctuary in Oregon?”</p><p>Jaskier shrugged. “There’s been stories about a giant white wolf wandering around the forest of Rivia. It’s not the White Wolf from my childhood, but if there’s some sub-species of giant wolves living in a specific forest in Poland, it’d explain the myth. Plus, people all over the internet have claimed to see the White Wolf and there’s even a few blurry pictures of him.”</p><p>“So, your childhood boogeyman is a real cryptid, which now resides in the zoo you work at.”</p><p>“It’s a sanctuary,” Jaskier corrected, “But yes.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jaskier showed up for his first shift at the beginning of the next week, wearing a pair of jeans and a sturdy pair of boots. Despite the heat and humidity of Oregon summers, the sanctuary was in a very wooded area, making ticks and mosquitos more of an issue than personal comfort. Triss’ orientation email had suggested bringing a water bottle to counteract any dehydration caused by the weather.</p><p>His first few tasks were easy enough. Regis and Dandelion had to be fed breakfast, which Jaskier prepared according to the instruction book in the visitor’s centre and Triss’ oversight.</p><p>Both ambassador birds had different diets depending on the day of the week to help balance their nutritional needs. It was a Monday, so Regis the crow was to be given cat food soaked in water, defrosted corn, half an apple, and a few different types of larvae. Dandelion the kestrel received a bit of starling breast meat and a handful of gut loaded crickets. The latter caused a bit of trouble for Jaskier, since they kept jumping out of the bowl. Eventually he managed to catch them and imprison them in the dish by putting the water bowl on top of it.</p><p>Once Triss approved of the diet, she sent Jaskier out to give it to the birds and clean out their aviaries.</p><p>He decided to feed Dandelion first to prevent any cricket-related incidents. The little raptor was already at the perch near his food bowl, watching Jaskier intently. The food and water bowls in the aviary were on a swivel that allowed them to turn 180 degrees, allowing Jaskier to access the bowl without entering the enclosure. While this was wonderful in theory, he had to acquaint himself with a rather complex latch in order to work it, which was proving remarkably difficult.</p><p>Dandelion eyed Jaskier closely as he worked, letting out the occasional twitter, presumably out of impatience.</p><p>“I know you’re hungry, just give me a second…” He finally managed to get the feeder to swivel, replacing yesterday’s empty food and water bowls with today’s full ones. And as far as he could tell, none of the crickets had escaped. Mission accomplished.</p><p>The kestrel made quick work of the crickets. It descended on each one, grasping it with its little talons and swallowing them one by one.</p><p>He left Dandelion to his meal and moved onto Regis. The crow watched him intently as he switched the bowls. Once he’d put everything in place, the bird let out a caw of excitement and started descending on his food. Regis got to work, picking out the larvae first before twittering at Jaskier.</p><p>He wasn’t quite sure what the bird meant (or if it was even communicating at all), so he said goodbye and got to work on the rest of his tasks.</p><p>Ciri the bobcat was next, demanding a diet of turkey necks and whole chicks. When Jaskier showed up with her food bowl, she was already bounding playfully near the door to the feeding area. She had a pronounced limp in her back leg where a car had hit her as a kitten, but it clearly hadn't diminished her energy.</p><p>Jaskier set the bowl down in the feeding area, locked the door, then let Ciri in to have her breakfast.</p><p>As Jaskier got to work cleaning up the waste in her cage, he heard a rasping meow coming from the feeding area.</p><p>Jaskier chuckled as he looked over to her. She was looking at him, docile as a housecat, her mouth tinted red with the chicks' blood.</p><p>"Oh Ciri, I'd love to give you some pets, but I also know you're fully capable of tearing my face off."</p><p>The bobcat yawned, revealing two pairs of long, sharp canines.</p><p>"Yeah, that's what I figured. Very cute, but very scary."</p><p>He finished up cleaning her enclosure, then let her out of the feeding area to explore. She gave him a look and one last loud mew before bounding off into the enclosure.</p><p>His final task for the morning was feeding and cleaning up after the White Wolf. Unlike Ciri, he didn’t come running when Jaskier approached with the meat (which consisted of a large slab of beef with the bones still inside). Even after placing it on the slab, the wolf was nowhere in sight.</p><p>That felt odd to him. Wouldn’t the smell of fresh meat attract the wolf to his location? He’d been recovering from sedation yesterday, but Triss said that she’d seen him wandering around the enclosure.</p><p>Perhaps Jaskier’s presence made the wolf uncomfortable? After all, he’d been living in the wild until a few weeks ago, unlike Ciri, who’d spent most of her life among humans in the sanctuary.</p><p>Jaskier walked into the visitor’s centre, watching the wolf from a window.</p><p>After a few minutes, the White Wolf finally made an appearance. His first steps were tentative as he walked into the feeding area. He sniffed at the meat, seeming to eye it with suspicion before finally digging in.</p><p>That was when Jaskier rushed out of the building to shut the door behind him so he could start cleaning the enclosure. However, once he got close, the wolf let out a low growl.</p><p>It stopped Jaskier in his tracks. Of course, he knew that the fence would withstand any attack from the wolf (it was the same type of fencing used for lions, bears, and other large mammals, after all). But seeing the monster that ravaged his childhood nightmares baring its teeth released a fear in him that he hadn’t realised he’d felt.</p><p>Still, There was no way the wolf could hurt him. Unlike Ciri, his claws weren’t meant to draw blood, and his lethal jaws couldn’t fit through the holes in the fencing. </p><p>Jaskier lowered the door on the other side of the wolf and got to work cleaning. The creature’s massive size dictated an equally massive enclosure, so Jaskier found himself almost enjoying the work. Despite the fact that he was cleaning up poop, he was beginning to appreciate working outside. It felt a bit like taking a walk through the woods. The next thing he knew, he was singing quietly to himself.</p><p>It was a Polish folk song. Jaskier had grown interested in such music during his freshman year at Willamette. Like many children of immigrants, he’d become more Americanised than his parents had ever imagined, to the point where he hardly knew anything of Poland. It hadn’t helped that there were very few Eastern or Central European immigrants in the suburb that they’d ended up settling in. He’d taken a class in folk music during his second semester, which had inspired him to look more into his heritage.</p><p>And, of course, folk songs tended to stick in the mind and come out when one least expects them to. So it was no surprise when the first few lines of “Gdybym Miał Gitarę” came from his lips.</p><p>But as he passed by the White Wolf’s feeding area, he realised that the wolf had abandoned his food in favour of staring right at Jaskier.</p><p>He felt his entire body go stiff, but as soon as his voice died down, the wolf let out something between a bark and a howl. The creature’s amber eyes never left Jaskier’s face.</p><p>There was still half a piece of meat left on the granite slab that he ate from, yet for some reason, the wolf had decided Jaskier was far more interesting.</p><p>This time, however, the wolf didn’t seem aggressive. He was just staring, his gaze almost curious.</p><p>Tentatively, Jaskier took a step forward. “Why are you looking at me?”</p><p>The wolf set its ears back.</p><p>Jaskier sat down crosslegged, about two meters from the wolf’s feeding pen. It didn’t do anything to calm the creature down.</p><p>Well, the song had been in Polish. Maybe the song had managed to get the wolf’s attention because the sounds were familiar.</p><p>“<em> Why are you looking at me? </em>” he asked, this time in Polish.</p><p>He knew it was probably crazy to imagine that the language would make any difference.  But it <em> did </em>. This time, the wolf let out another howl-bark.</p><p>Jaskier blinked. Then he asked “<em> Can you understand me? </em>”</p><p>As soon as he finished asking the question, he <em> swore </em> that the wolf nodded his head.</p><p>Just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, he said “<em> If you can understand me, bark twice </em>.”</p><p>The wolf let out two howl-barks.</p><p>Jaskier’s heart stopped.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was curiosity that led to Jaskier spending time with the wolf after his shifts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf had started to foresee this, sitting at the edge of his enclosure once Jaskier went into the visitor’s centre to sign out for the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was an old tree stump next to the fence where Jaskier could comfortably sit and chat with the wolf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d worked out a code to help understand each other. Jaskier would ask a question and the wolf would bark once for “yes” and twice for “no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was on the third day that it finally occurred to Jaskier to ask the wolf about his name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t keep calling you ‘the white wolf’ forever</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he explained. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Reminds me too much of the legends I heard as a kid. Do you have any other name?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf barked once. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What can I call you, then?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf started at him and scoffed, presumably frustrated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You can spell it, can’t you? You could probably write it out in the dirt</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf’s brow furrowed in concentration as he dragged his paw through the dirt, carving out letters in the loose soil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>G-E-R-A-L-T.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Geralt</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Jaskier asked, trying his best to mimic a Polish accent. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Is that your name</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf barked another yes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier smiled. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Well then, it’s a pleasure to meet you Geralt the Wolf. My name is Jaskier, like the flower.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf let out a snort that Jaskier figured was probably meant to be a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>I know it's girly. I like keeping people on their toes. I'm not a girl or a boy, I'm a musician.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" He winked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt flicked his tail, unamused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier shrugged. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>I don't suppose wolves would care about gender either way</span>
  </em>
  <span>." He paused. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Did you have a mate back in Poland? A family?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf’s expression softened. If Jaskier didn’t know any better, he’d have thought he saw sadness in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two barks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, I’m sorry. I mean, I would have thought you’d at least have a mate. I don’t know about wolf standards, but I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt let out a huff, then got up and walked further into the enclosure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier thought about following him for a moment, but then thought better of it. Capable of understanding human speech or not, the wolf was still a wild animal, and Jaskier didn’t want to figure out what he was capable of when he was upset.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Jaskier got up to leave for his car, he nearly walked right into Doctor Vengerberg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t really talked to the biologist much. She spent most of her days observing Geralt and gathering non-invasive samples from him, while Jaskier was usually feeding the animals or giving tours to guests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She also just had an aura about her that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>incredibly</span>
  </em>
  <span> intimidating. Jaskier was sure that she was probably about the same height as him, but her Doc Martens added an extra inch and a half that made her tower over him. Additionally, her smoky eye and dark purple lipstick never seemed to move no matter how hot or humid the days became.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you just… talking to the White Wolf?” Yennefer asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier gulped and shifted his weight between his feet. He hadn’t yet planned out what he was going to say if he got caught, so he just defaulted to the truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He understands Polish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinked. “Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The wolf understands Polish. I asked him for his name and he scratched it into the dirt.” Jaskier gestured into the cage, where Geralt had just been standing. “Look!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yennefer’s purple eyes flicked to where the wolf had written his name in the dirt. “Is this some kind of joke?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I do something like that?” Jaskier countered. “I wouldn’t gain a single thing by tricking you like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed. “Look, come to the break room with me. We’ll have coffee and chat about all this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier wasn’t quite ready to tell Yennefer that he didn’t like coffee as he watched her load up the drip coffee machine in the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I’ve been noticing a lot of strange things about our friend,” she started, as the coffee maker began chugging away in the background.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier gulped. He felt like he’d just been cornered by a panther, and she was toying with him before striking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-and what might that be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She started counting off on her immaculately-manicured fingers. “His body temperature is too low, his digestive system isn’t responding well to a carnivorous diet, and he reacted to sedatives like something half his size.” She laid her hand on her cheek and sighed. “And if that weren’t enough, just today I got the results of his blood test back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you find?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All the levels were completely wrong for a wolf, but within normal range for a human. We’re still working on sequencing the DNA, but I expect much the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier blinked. “That’s all… pretty weird. Is there some sort of scientific explanation for it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Each of the oddities in isolation might be explained by something like stress or individual variation, but all of them together? Something is strange here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. She wasn’t going to kill him. “What do you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed. “I don’t know what it means. I think we may actually be dealing with the last remains of magic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier raised an eyebrow. “Okay, now who’s playing a trick on whom? Are you trying to convince me that magic is real?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yennefer shrugged. “We think it might have been at some point, but the writing suggests it faded during the fall of alchemy in the 17th and 18th centuries. It’s not my area of expertise, but some of my friends in the history department study it. For whatever reason, we’ve found evidence of ancient magic all over the world, and there are even a few artifacts we found that seem to have some sort of magical purpose and carry residual energy. It’s a burgeoning field of study.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...so the scientific community actually thinks that magic is real?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like I said, the field is still getting its footing. But there are definitely plenty of things from the past that science can’t explain yet, and Geralt is one of them. Scientists explore all possibilities when faced with unusual data, and we’ve entered a realm where even magic is something we have to consider.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed. “Look, I don’t know about all of this. I’d love for magic to be real, but I’m just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not thrilled about it either. I’ll talk to my colleagues in the anthropology department. I’m sure they’ll be very interested to meet Geralt as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope some of them speak Polish. I think he’s missed having someone to talk to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was later that day that Jaskier found himself researching old folktales about the White Wolf of Rivia. There wasn’t much in the anglosphere about him: the wikipedia article was a stub, and the only other writing he could find was a few mentions on a forum for Polish immigrants. Even there, he could only find the same boogeyman stories he’d grown up with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to Google search “Biały Wilk z Riviii,” and that seemed to bring him the information he needed. Jaskier needed a moment to readjust to anything other than conversational Polish, but once he did so, the words came easily to him. He scrolled through all the various articles about Geralt’s capture (which had apparently been a big deal in Poland) until he finally found a page about the folklore creature.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a Reddit thread for people from near the Rivia National Forest detailing the stories that they’d heard about the Wolf. He was a recurring character in their regional storytelling, often demonstrating kindness and nobility in the animal world as well as extending mercy towards lost children.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This version of the White Wolf was a far cry from the creature that terrorised Jaskier’s childhood. He was a hero in most stories, according to the forum posts. One forum user went so far as to claim that she had been raised on stories of the wolf being a prince in disguise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That caught Jaskier’s attention. Immediately, he clicked on her profile and tried to send her a private message in her native tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hello there!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My name is Jaskier, and I happened to be lurking on a thread about the White Wolf. You mentioned hearing a folk story about the Wolf being a prince in disguise, but the thread has been archived. Would you mind elaborating on it?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thanks!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He continued looking through the thread, trying to find any nugget of new information. As soon as that proved fruitless, he got a reply from the woman on the thread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>It is a pleasure to meet you, Jaskier! What a unique name for a young man!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am much older than you, but I remember my grandmother telling me a story when I was a little girl. As you can tell from the thread, most people who live near the national forest see the White Wolf as a symbol for honour and virtue. He’s even associated with various saints  in some stories. It’s quite different from the rest of Poland.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, in the story that I was referencing in that comment, the Wolf was once a strapping young prince (as all princes are in fairy tales). He was asked by his father, the king, to expel a witch who was living in the woods we now call Rivia. Though she had been sent warnings from the guard, she refused to leave. So it was up to the prince to remove her from his father’s land.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He gathered his best men and was the first to enter the witch’s cottage with his sword drawn. However, she put up no fight as she was escorted to the border. When she was finally asked to cross it, she looked the prince in the eyes and muttered a curse.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For as long as he knew no mercy, he would have to live his life as an outcast. He would wander the woods in the shape of a Wolf.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I guess the point of the tale is to teach children to extend those values to all people. It also establishes why the Wolf is a hero in so many stories: he’s trying to become human again. I always liked that story. It’s so interesting to understand why things are the way they are when you’re that age. I suppose that’s why it stuck with me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope this sated your curiosity!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier took a breath and leaned back in his chair. Was this what had happened to Geralt? But if the Wolf was as heroic as he was in the story, why hadn’t he changed back by now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thanked the woman for her message and made a mental note to ask Geralt about it in the morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Due to the magic of Portland traffic, Jaskier was ten minutes late to work. So instead of getting to the bottom of the mystery of Geralt, he was tasked with preparing meals for all the animals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d started chatting to the animals in an odd mix of Polish and English whenever he fed them. Jaskier actually found that Regis responded particularly well to the rhythm of Polish, letting out happy chirps whenever Jaskier spoke to him. He hoped this didn’t mean that yet another animal was actually a Polish creature of legend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once all the animals in his section were fed, he had to start giving walking tours for the large number of guests that had started to accumulate at the gate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier generally enjoyed giving tours, especially since most of the guests were children, who were fascinated by all the creatures. He was leading a small group of grade schoolers and their parents past the snake enclosures when Triss gently tapped him on the shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you’re finished, we’re going to have a short staff meeting. Yen requested that you be there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier blinked. Did Triss know about Geralt or was Yen enlisting his help to tell her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He figured he’d get the answer later. “Alright, I’ll see you soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he finished up with the tour he met up with Triss and Yen in the break room.  Triss was pacing back and forth frantically as Yennefer calmly filled the coffee maker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanted to see me?” Jaskier asked tentatively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s about Geralt,” Triss said, sitting down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier sat across from her, quickly followed by Yennefer, who had just started the coffee maker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yen told you about him?” he asked. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>and you believed her?</span>
  </em>
  <span> was left unsaid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t just tell Triss,” Yen piped up. “I was even able to talk to him a little with Google translate. It probably wasn’t as effective as your Polish, but it was enough to get the point across.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Triss sighed. “Obviously, the fact that we’re keeping a creature of human-like intelligence trapped here is… less than ideal. But I don’t think relocating him is our best course of action.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” Jaskier asked, “If we brought him back to Poland, at least he’d be around people he can understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yen sighed. “Have you ever wondered why a Polish specimen ended up in Oregon in the first place?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier blinked. “I just figured it’s because we were close to the University. You know, to study him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s part of it,” Triss explained, “But the biggest reason we got him was because the local townsfolk were pressuring the government to put him down. Since wolves have started coming back to Europe, farmers in rural areas are more apt to blame them for any livestock that are killed or go missing. They’re also thought to be dangerous to humans, especially children. When people saw a wolf of Geralt’s size, he was blamed for just about every disappearance for miles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yen rolled her eyes. “Which isn’t even true, by the way. We present </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> more of a threat to wolves than they ever have to us or our livestock, but these people already feel threatened by the rapid disappearance of agriculture in Europe. Wolves are the most visible threat, so it’s the one they lash out against.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier felt his mouth press into a hard line. “So he’s just going to have to stay here for the rest of his life?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That was the plan, before we knew he could understand speech…" Yen paused to take a sip of her coffee. "And so far, no one in the anthropology department can figure out what sort of magic is at work here. Central Europe isn't exactly a prominent field of study."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s when Jaskier piped up. “Um, actually, a did a bit of research on my own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He explained the Reddit exchange he’d had with the woman from Rivia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” he said, “if we can get him human again we don’t have to worry about any of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yen hummed. “It certainly seems like Polish witchcraft. But we can’t break the curse without knowing the exact wording.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Triss sighed. “And the only person who knows that can do little more than bark ‘yes’ or ‘no.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier sighed. “I’ll see what I can do. I’m sure he’ll be willing to help us break the curse.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shortly after the meeting, Jaskier let himself into Geralt’s enclosure and took a seat on a rock near his den.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Geralt? Can you come out and have a word with me?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard an annoyed noise from the inside of Geralt’s den as the wolf reluctantly dragged himself into Jaskier’s sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve been doing a bit of research on you. The White Wolf of Rivia, I mean. We were wondering, did you used to be human?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One bark. Yes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I figured as much. Is there a way to turn you back?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf let out another single bark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Do you know how to break it</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wolf levelled an annoyed stare at him, but Jaskier could guess what it meant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, I guess if you knew, you probably would’ve turned back by now.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Jaskier paused for a moment. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>How long have you been a wolf anyway?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt paused for a second before scratching six tally marks into the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Are those years?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two barks. No.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Decades?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two barks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Centuries?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was how Jaskier came to spend his work days chatting with a 150-pound wolf. Occasionally, Yen or Triss would show up to sit in on the conversation, but mainly it was just him and Geralt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier had started asking more open-ended questions once Geralt started scratching more and more answers into the dirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unlike in the legends, he hadn’t been a prince when he was human. Though he had been hired by a king to remove a witch from his land.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had turned him into a wolf. And the curse had lasted over six hundred yeard, despite Geralt’s efforts to the contrary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Do you remember exactly what she said?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Jaskier asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt scratched “</span>
  <em>
    <span>learn love and marcy</span>
  </em>
  <span>” into the dirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What does that even mean?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shot Jaskier abd abbited gkabce,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I just feel like, you know, if half the stories about you are true, you’ve demonstrated an understanding of mercy. Several times over.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt circled the word “</span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s the sticky bit, isn’t it? Some of the people of Rivia love you, Geralt. Or at least they did.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Jaskier sighed. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t know. But we’re working to turn you back, okay?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt let out an annoyed whimper and flopped over on his side.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna wear the rug outfit you keep pacing like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Essi was sitting on the couch, a mug of tea in hand, as she watched Jaskier walk back and forth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was muttering to himself to try and figure out how to reverse Geralt’s curse. Once Essi was finished chastising him, he threw his body weight onto the coach beside her. “Love and mercy, Essi. What the fuck does that even mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...he has to learn love and mercy? Seems self explanatory to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but what </span>
  <em>
    <span>counts</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Why hasn’t the love of the Rivian people turned him back yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Essi took a sip from her tea. “Isn’t Polish one of those languages that distinguishes romantic love from platonic love?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier stared at her gaping. “Fuck, you’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So which version is it? Romantic or platonic?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Romantic…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How hard could it be to fall in love with the wolf man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That gave Jaskier pause. “I don’t suppose it would be hard. He’s… surprisingly funny. Very expressive. Once I started talking to him, it really didn’t take long to get a feel for what he was thinking. I can’t even begin to describe how incredible he is.” He took a moment to consider the words that just came out of his mouth. “Essi, I think I might be in love with him.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A quick note about Yen's comments on European relationship with wolves: From what I researched (as well as what I heard from a friend who lives in Mainland Europe), wolves (as well as other large mammalian predators like bears and lynx) were nearly extinct on the European continent for centuries. Now that they've started to come back, modern farmers have really lost the knowledge of how to protect their animals (mainly sheep) from these species. Farmer's are also only compensated for the animals that are killed rather than being given a bulk sum to predator-proof their fences or buy dogs and other herd guardians. This fear has also been used by the alt right to gain power, since these sorts of movements thrive on any sort of fear. For the context of my fictional world, I imagine that most native Rivians love their White Wolf, but they've had their voices drowned out by scared farmers and the fascist parasites who leech off of them.</p><p>If you'd like to read more about wolves and agriculture in Europe, I found a very helpful study that can be read <a href="https://www.europarl.europa.eu/RegData/etudes/STUD/2018/617488/IPOL_STU(2018)617488_EN.pdf">here</a>. And if you'd like to learn about why wolves are so important to ecosystems in the first place, I'd recommend looking up the wolves in Yellowstone National Park!</p><p>Another note for the curious: Jaskier's username on Reddit is YourButtercupBoy.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The song that Jaskier was singing is a real Polish folk song! Check out a recording of it <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lHR-XkpdkBU">here</a>.</p><p> <a href="https://linktr.ee/Binary_Sunset">My social media</a><br/>Edit: I also made <a href="https://binary-suunset.tumblr.com/post/628194264271241216/made-some-penguin-classics-covers-for-my-witcher"> some Penguin Classics-style book covers</a> for this and my other Witcher fics!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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